


A Newfound Power

by 4l3x4nd3r98



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark Magic, Dark Stiles, Falling In Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Magic, Magic!Stiles, Rituals, Slow Build, Spells & Enchantments, Stiles-centric, Violence, love/hate relationship but kinda more hate at first, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:56:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2243235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4l3x4nd3r98/pseuds/4l3x4nd3r98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of season 3B, Stiles can’t seem to get back to his old self. He’s been forever changed by what happened to him and around him, and he’s decided that since the situation obviously isn’t gonna change, he might as well go ahead and do something drastic about it. If a certain wolf makes it easier or harder for him to navigate through this new chapter of his life is still up for debate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Decision

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone. I’m a little nervous seeing as this is my first upload ever! Hopefully a wonderful story will come out of my first attempt at fan fiction. I love Sterek and this will get to that eventually but it’ll be more of a slow burn. All comments are welcome and please bear in mind I don't have a beta so it's ok to point out any mistake. Enjoy!

Stiles never really recovered after being possessed by the Nogitsune. So much had happened to him and the people he loved, that it haunted him, even in his sleep. He thought after the trickster spirit left him, he might actually be able to get a good night's sleep, but his head was filled to the brim with dark images of violence, evil and death. And the thing that upset him the most is one all of his friends seemed eager to forget: Allison. They never really talked about her and her death, how it affected them all, instead choosing to sweep it all under the rug. That's the other thing keeping him up at night. He wishes it were because he missed her too much or that her absence was just to keenly felt, but none of those were the reasons behind his sleepless nights. The awful truth was, as much as he hated to admit it, Allison reminded him of his own mortality. In all the time he's been involved with the supernatural, he never once questioned his faith in his self imposed mission. He wanted to be the best friend he could possibly be to Scott, if that meant he was to suddenly become a human bestiary, then so be it. Then that morphed into being an asset to his ass-kicking best friend's pack. Somewhere along the way it became more than that, and now he feels responsible for all of the people in Beacon Hills; it's his home that's constantly under attack and most of the time it seems only him and his friends are interested in saving it. Being a hero used to be the only thing that mattered, he used to think he and his friends would always prevail... And then she was killed. He doesn't want to admit it to his friends, but it's getting harder and harder to hide the fact that he's not sure whether risking himself for the sake of Beacon Hills is worth it anymore.

He lies in bed thinking about his choices, the ones he's made so far and the ones he'll have to make in order to get through this. He briefly thinks about just quitting, telling his friends, that he can't do it anymore. But he doesn't do it and not just because it wouldn't be as easy as that. Ultimately, he's already too involved in this and he won't go back to being a helpless, naïve boy. So he decides, right as sleep is finally starting to take him over, that he's gonna do something about it.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stiles wakes up around noon on Saturday and remembers the resolution he came to last night. He quickly showers, puts on the first decent clothes he finds and heads out, forgetting to eat breakfast and leaving his dad a message on the fridge before he goes, just in case he isn't back soon. He drives his jeep over to Deaton's clinic and is relieved to find him at the front desk as he enters the building, saying goodbye to a feline patient and his thankful owner. After the owner leaves and door closes, certain that he and Deaton are alone, he waves his hand I a silent greeting, as he works up the courage to tell Deaton what his decision is and why he's here. Hopefully he'll have more than a cryptic riddle to contribute to his dilemma.

“I need to be more”he says, stopping to gather his thoughts.

“I don't understand what you mean Stiles”Deaton answers quietly.

He takes a deep breath and takes a moment before talking again, because he knows deep down, that if he keeps going, if he makes his intentions known, he'll never be the same stiles again, whatever the outcome.

“I can't keep going on like this Deaton, I need to be more. I was deluding myself into thinking that a human could keep up with a bunch of werewolves and have nothing come of it, and I can't run away either. Something's gotta give, and it truly feels like it has to be me”

“Stiles, if you want the bite, you should've gone to Scott, I can't help you with that even if I wanted to, and if you're asking for my advice honestl-”

“That's not what I want”Stiles breathes out.

“Then what is this about boy?”

Stiles decides to just blurt it all out. “You said you were the emissary to Talia's pack, so I was thinking, Scott's pack doesn't have an emissary, unless it's you. And if it is I'm so sorry for thinking otherwise, we really appreciate all the help you've given us Deaton, I mean really, were would we all be without you? I'll tell you were, we'd be ou-”

“Stiles, you're rambling”Deaton interjects. His face betrays nothing, as usual and Stiles decides that if Deaton really does have a problem with anything, he can just come out and say it afterwards.

“I want to be the pack's emissary. I want to be able to defend them and myself as well. I feel like I already do so much counseling on everything we do, on every plan and every decision, I'd just like some mojo to back it up with, you know?”

He stares as at Deaton to try and decipher an answer from his silent form. Maybe an eyebrow twitch will give his opinion away or something.

“I had no idea you had any interest in the druid arts. I assumed, after you used the mountain ash for the first time and were not more curious about how its inner workings, that these sort of spiritual arts weren't of any concern to you.”

“I've had a change of heart.”Stiles says, as he tries to stop his nervous shaking. He wonders if Deaton realizes how important his answer is.

“First of all, calm down Stiles, you're not asking anything offensive. Second, It's not that the emissary to the McCall pack is a position that's already filled, it's that not just anyone can be an emissary. It's a sacred and fated duty that we who follow the druid faith answer to. You can't just decide to become an emissary, if you were one, you'd know by now. It's destiny.”He says as he arranges some of the various bottles and veterinary instruments throughout the room.  
Stiles lets his head fall and wonders what his next move will be. He can't imagine asking for the bite, being a werewolf is nothing to sneeze at, but he feels right down to his core that it's just not for him. He vows to find another way, and is just about to thank Deaton for his help and leave, when the vet still suddenly and starts to speak again.

“Stiles, I know that's not the answer you wanted to hear. Knowing you, you're just going to leave and search for any other way to turn into whatever it is you feel you need to be and not be to mindful of the consequences. So in the interest of keeping you from entering a downward spiral, I have a proposition for you”

Stiles looks at the older man in front of him and sees that he has completely stilled, with his gaze set upon him intently. Deaton seems to be considering something very hard and Stiles thinks that maybe he wants to hear him acknowledge something and just as he is about to speak the man continues. What Deaton says leaves Stiles at a loss for words.

“How do you feel about Witchcraft?”


	2. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes to a pack meeting, all the while preparing for the changes to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! It's so cool to see my first story getting hits an kudos so early on :) I hope that if you choose to go on this adventure with me, you enjoy every word of it. I try to set everything up as best I can, hence stiles thinking so much, I hate it when things happen out of the blue, and the story is tagged slow build, so you've all been warned. I hope you feel free to share any feedback you may have and thank you so much for reading.

As Stiles drove back home, he felt as though he'd already made his choice. Deaton said to think it over and get back to him soon, and he was trying to debate whether to take him up on his offer or not but his mind kept telling him to stop kidding himself. He could research until his eyes wouldn't open anymore, trying to find another way to fix the feelings of inadequacy that plagued him, but all of that would just be putting off the inevitable, which is that, this time, maybe a supernatural solution was the only way to go, and really, wasn't that what he had wanted in the first place, asking to become the pack's emissary? He needed to become more, and finally a door opened that would allow him to do just that, without becoming a werewolf. He still had lots of questions, like would he still be human? What would he be able to do? Why is becoming an emissary out of bounds but dabbling in witchcraft totally fine? 

His head was about to implode when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He parked on the driveway of his house quickly and took it out to see a text from Scott. 

\- Pack meeting 2night at 8 at loft

He doesn’t know if he should go. He hasn't really had time to process everything that has gone down today, and he’s sure that everyone there will be able to sense his emotional turmoil the second he walks in the loft. What would he even tell them? Nothing’s happened yet. It’s not like they’d even understand his reasoning. They’re already special in one way or another, plenty capable of protecting themselves, even Lydia, who he’s sure hasn’t even begun to scratch the surface of what being a banshee is or what she can do. He decides right then and there that he won’t let them know, not yet anyway. He’ll wait until he has some magical ability, something to show them, and then they’ll see that there’s nothing to be done about it.

He gets out of the car and goes straight to the kitchen. Too much thinking has left him starved but then he remembers that he hasn’t eaten all day. He grabs a quick snack from the fridge, some unfortunately healthy concoction, due to there not being a single ounce of junk food in the house (taking care of his father has its drawbacks). Heading towards the living room to watch some T.V., he absently wonders why he feels like he has to lie to his friends. It’s just that when it comes to magic, they haven’t really had the best experiences. Jennifer did try to kill them all, and certain unwanted people have come back from the dead because of it, as well as Derek being de-aged a little while ago (although if you ask him, that was a very marked improvement on a certain wolf’s attitude), so he could understand why they might not want him messing round with that stuff. With his mind made up about not telling them anything, he watches a show about the dangers of adulterous behavior, not really paying attention, just enjoying having it on to keep him from going too deep in thought. 

After watching a couple of other random shows he gets up, washes his dish and a few others left in the sink, then decides to message Deaton that he’ll meet him tomorrow after lunch, if that’s ok with him. He almost doesn’t hit send, but when he notices the time on his cell, he knows that he’ll be late to the pack meeting if he doesn’t hurry up and leave, so he presses the button, and realizing that he’d just said yes to Deaton’s proposal, he feels a wave of calm set over him. No matter how this might turn out, at least he’s doing something about all those feelings that won’t let him rest. He’s ready to face his friends and he’ll tell them when he feels ready. As he leaves the house, writing another note for his dad, who he assumes must be held up at the station if he hasn’t come home by now, he can sense everything is going to change.

He just hopes it changes for the better.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He arrived at the loft 5 minutes late, and was pleased to see that he was the first one there. He could always count on his friends to not be punctual, although it was odd that Lydia wasn't there already. Derek opens the door with his usual broody demeanor and doesn’t say hello, just turns around and goes back to whatever he was doing before answering. Stiles closes it and head to a ratty old couch that’s usually pushed towards the middle of the loft for pack meetings or any gatherings held here. He’s making himself comfortable, grabbing a cushion to put behind his head, when Derek speaks up from where he’s looking out the window. 

“You smell... better.”he says, not even bothering to turn around. 

“Thanks... I guess,” What is he even supposed to say to that? As opposed to what? “I always shower you know, so if you’re trying to imply something it’s better to just come clean and say it outright, sourwolf.”

He sees Derek turn around then, “I just meant that these past few weeks you’ve reeked of fear, it wasn’t exactly subtle, we’ve all noticed it. And I thought I told you not to call me that.” his broody expression darkens somewhat, as if it pains him to have to explain himself. Stiles doesn’t know if he should be offended that Derek’s basically saying he’s been a depressing burden for the past few weeks or flattered that he thinks he’s doing ok. He just stares at the wolf in front of him, eyes wide and mouth shut. After a moment Derek gets impatient. “It was just an observation, don’t make a big deal out of it.”he says. 

Stiles bites back saying “Aw Derek, how sweet, I didn’t know you cared. You better be careful sourwolf, or I might just have to sweeten up that nickname for you.”

Derek stomps furiously towards him and grabs him by the collar of his shirt, he opens his mouth to presumably tell Stiles off, when the door opens and in come Scott, Kira, Lydia and Malia.

Lydia looks exasperated as she sees Stiles struggling in Derek’s grip.“Oh, not this again. Honestly guys, can’t you play nice for once? It’s ironic that you’ve saved each other so many times when you can’t even stand one another for 5 minutes.”

Derek seems moved by her words and at least has the decency to release him. Stiles doesn’t even bother coming up with a retort as the wolf goes to grab a chair and sits as far away form him as he can. It’s become so commonplace for them to fight like this that it’s barely worth mentioning anymore. I guess it’s nice that even with all of the changes that will soon be happening, he can always count on Derek to remain as dark and stormy as ever. 

Scott sits next to him with Kira at his side, as Lydia and Malia grabs chairs like Derek’s and sit in front of them. When they’ve all settled down, Scott starts the meeting off with a greeting. “It’s nice to see all of you. I sent that text today because I wanted to talk about some things that have been bothering me lately. Ever since Kate’s been back, I feel like it’s a matter of time before one of us ends up missing, most likely Derek again.”Derek, with an irritated look on his face, tries to interrupt, but Scott just raises his hand and keeps him from going any further. 

“I know it’s not what you wanna hear, but you’re vulnerable right now, and whatever differences we might’ve had at first, I think it’s clear that we’re all a pack now. And we have to look out for one another.”Scott stops and looks at Derek head on, making him lower his head. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad or weak, but it’s clear that we’re not safe, and I say we because, now Kate knows that you’re not alone. We got you back before she could finish getting her claws in you and she’s not gonna just sit by and let that slide. We’re all on her hitlist now and that’s why I think we should all stick together, not give her a chance to get any of us alone.” 

Stiles wonders when he found the foresight and the focus to think about all of this without him guiding him through it. Kira is hanging from his arm and his every word. It seems that her presence is influencing more than Scott’s pants. Not that he has anything against her, but usually if there’s a plan, he’s the first one to know about it, especially if it involves Scott. But he’s not that surprised. This is the same guy that tricked Gerard Argent without him knowing about it, so there’s precedent for Scott being an independent thinker. 

Derek looks at Scott then, his eyebrows unknotting just a tiny bit. “So what exactly are you proposing Scott?”

“I want us all to have one of the pack with them at all times. I’m spending most of my time with Kira, and Lydia and Stiles have been helping Malia get accustomed to being human again, so she’s usually always with someone, but Derek, you’re always alone. So that’s why I think that one of us should come keep you company everyday after school. We can all take turns, so it won’t be that big of an adjustment. You can even help tutor Malia on her control on the days when she comes over. I just think it’s best fo-,”

“I don’t need babysitters Scott,” Derek says, hoping to stop Scott’s train of thought. “I can take care of myself without constant supervision”

“That’s not what it’s about Derek,”Scott says. “You’re part of our pack, and it’s time we started acting like it. I don’t wanna hear about how you don’t need back up, we need to keep an eye on each other, and that includes you taking care of us too.”

Stiles can’t believe that he actually agrees with Scott, even if he is implying that he’s gonna have to spend time with Derek alone. Maybe he should ask his dad to give him an update on self defense techniques. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket. He stealthily tries to take it out and read the screen while everyone is listening to Scott. He sees that Deaton has responded with an affirmative and oddly, asks him to bring a spare set of clothes.

“Does anyone have a problem?” Scott asks. Stiles almost drops his phone, but manages to shove it back in his pocket without much fuss.

 

“We’d have to work out a schedule, I could make one. I’ll need a list of all your curricular and extracurricular activities, but I don’t see why we couldn’t try and make this work”Lydia states, already one step ahead of everyone.

Derek looks resigned and whispers an affirmative and Malia states a simple okay, while Kira just nods approvingly, holding on to Scott even tighter. If she wasn't so badass, Stiles thinks that Kira might fit the role of obsessed girlfriend just fine. He belatedly notices that everyone is staring at him, waiting for an answer. 

“As long as sweet n’ sour over there keeps his hands to himself, I think we could give it a shot”He says, basically daring Derek to react to his new nickname in front of Scott. 

The wolf just nods, his eyes looking murderous and every bit vengeful. 

Scott seems pleased.“Well, we can set the schedule up tomorrow, everyone remember to email Lydia a list of their normal activities, and I’ll stay with Derek tomorrow to start us off, we can talk more about the Kate problem, Malia and Lydia can work together on setting everything up and Kira and Stiles can stick together tomorrow.”

“I can’t hang with Kira tomorrow,” Stiles says quickly. “I’m going to run errands with my dad, and he said he would not let me bail on them this time, so I doubt he’ll be ok with any of you guys tagging along. I should be safe with him.”He’s thankful that he doesn’t have to completely lie to cover up his meeting with Deaton, seeing as he does have to go out with his dad early tomorrow, and hopes that none of them catch the undercurrent of what he’s not sharing. 

“It’s not a problem, I can help Lydia and Malia with the schedule”Kira says brightly. Stiles thinks she’s a beautiful human being right now. Well, beautiful being, anyways. 

“Okay, so we’re set for tomorrow, well discuss everything as soon as the three of you have a rough draft of the schedule.” Scott says. He gets up and everyone follows suit. They all exchange goodbyes. Everyone is out the door except Stiles and just as he’s about to cross the doorway Derek grabs him by the back of his shirt and corners him against the closest wall, pressing his full weight into his shoulders with his hands. Took him long enough. 

“I said no more nicknames, Stiles” He says, mouthfuls of angry air reaching Stiles’s face. 

“No, you said not to call you sourwolf, and I didn’t. Could you please stop with the heavy petting, save some for our alone time.” Stiles jokes. They both like to pretend they can’t stand each other, even though it's not so true anymore, because that’s the way it’s always been. It works for them. But he looks at Derek’s face, expecting to find his usual stony façade, but instead he sees doubt cast all over it.

Before he can lighten the mood, Derek quickly shuffles him outside and before shutting the door in his face shouts, “No more nicknames”.

“See you soon then!” Stiles yells cheerfully through the door. He decides not to make a big deal out of Derek’s reaction right now. He’s got enough on his plate, meeting up with Deaton tomorrow and all. He’s actually relieved that no one found out about his plans. As he walks to his jeep, he realizes that he’s really tired and decides to call it an early night as soon as he gets home, if his father’s not there yet. Tomorrow holds the promise of a new beginning; Derek problems and schedules can wait for another day.

It’s time for Stiles to find out what he’s made of.


	3. The Rituals of Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles heads over to Deaton's for Magic 101. He may be in way over his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a crazy chapter. It's setting up some of the mythology I want to address in this fic, as well as how it's not that easy to become a magical being. I think if you were to suddenly get into witchcraft, there would be trials you'd have to go through to even begin thinking about yielding powers. This is my take on that. I hope you enjoy reading it, and let me know what you think in the comments.

It was a very gray day, overcast with dark storm clouds. He supposed it was the universe trying to sync itself with his internal turmoil. He’d done some grocery shopping with his Dad early that morning before he had to go to the station (even on a Sunday Sherriff Stilinski had to serve and protect) and all the while he’d just pretended to function normally for his dad’s sake. After getting home and putting all the groceries away, he had a quick lunch and left to go to Deaton’s. The drive there was mostly spent questioning his resolve. Was he crazy to think this would be an answer to his problems? Would this even work? He asked himself endless things all the way there. He arrived to find the Vet waiting for him patiently in the backroom of the building. There were 2 chairs set apart for them separated by a table, and he sat when Deaton motioned for him to do so. 

“Good afternoon Stiles. There are some things we need to discuss about how this is going to work. I know you must be filled with questions, so ask away, I might even have some not so cryptic answers for you this time.”

He would’ve laughed at the fact that Deaton knew they made fun of the way he spoke, but he had too many things on his mind, so he just blurted them out. “Will I still be human? Will the others be able to smell something different on me? Will this actually work, Deaton? I mean, can I just become a witch because I want to? Is it that easy?”

“Nothing about what you’re considering is easy, Stiles. We’re talking about forces that go beyond nature, the breaking of laws that were set by powers long ago forgotten. First of all, as to whether you’ll remain human or not, that depends entirely on you and the journey you take. Power transforms, and you’ll have to decide where it will lead. I want to help you make the best decisions possible, that’s why I offered to do this. But ultimately, that will be a choice for you to make if and when the time comes. The wolves in your pack might be able to sense a change in your scent, but again that depends on the level of power you achieve, so I don’t think that’s cause for concern yet.”

Stiles was silent, as he considered everything Deaton was saying. He didn’t really know what to say so he just waited for Deaton to make the next move. 

He started speaking again while getting up to collect various items around the room and set them on the table. “Well then, let’s not waste time. We need to determine what, if any, level of magical ability you have. We’re going to start with 3 basic tests. They’re normally used to identify and track witches, but by modifying them a little bit, they can let someone sense magical ability and potential. Number one is a series of blood tests, number two is an Aura ritual, and number three is an alignment ritual. I’ll explain each one as I do them, so you’ll understand everything. Are you ready?”

Well that was a tricky question wasn’t it? Stiles supposed he was, no point in putting it off any longer. He just didn’t know what he should be preparing for. 

The Blood test turned out to be very normal at first. Deaton drew a vial of blood like nurses at the hospital usually do, so nothing new there, except the vial was a little bit bigger than normal. Then it started getting weird when Deaton poured the blood into 3 separate containers. 

He grabbed some of the items he had brought to the table and started mixing weird things into the first container “I’ve separated the blood so I can test it for magical properties. The first one I will infuse with a blend of herbs that should tell me what type of magic you are equipped to handle, and thus will turn a specific color. Different colors mean different things, for example, if it just stays red it means there’s no way you can do magic. If it turns lighter it means the magic you can learn will be mainly mental, and if turns darker it will mean that you can be more of a physical practitioner.” 

Stiles watched closely as he poured an ingredient, then mixed it in. Pour, mix, pour, mix. Deaton then set it on the table and gestured for him to come closer and see. Stiles saw that the blood was starting to change, but it wasn’t exactly becoming lighter or darker, it was sort of disappearing. He realized that it was turning transparent. He looked at Deaton to see if he should be horribly concerned but was greeted with the same calm expression he always wears. 

“Deaton what’s happening? Am I gonna die?” He mostly said it as a joke but he still got nervous like maybe he wasn’t all that sure. Deaton dropped the container into a metal trash bin next to the table. “ Don’t be silly Stiles, this is good. It means that your power can be whatever you wan it to be. It’s not really surprising, seeing as you were possessed and the Nogitsune did al types of things. He could destroy the Oni with just your bare hands. So you were a victim of mental magic that could express itself physically. That type of experience does not pass without leaving changes behind.” Stiles supposes that it’s good that at least something beneficial came of that whole ordeal.

Deaton moves on to the second container in which he drops a clear rock, which he makes sure to tell him is called a spirit stone, and then a match. The thing catches fire and is engulfed in light briefly before vanishing and leaving behind the stone, only now it was black instead. “Ok... What does that mean?” Stiles asks, eyes wide. 

“It means your mind is your own, and that you are in complete control.” He says, as easily as if he was reciting the weather. “I had to make sure that there were no traces of the Nogitsune left. If he had been in there the spirit stone would have turned red, seeing as he was malevolent.” Deaton threw items of the second test in the trash and took the third container in his hands. 

“With this blood I will see how much power your body already possesses. “He explained that he would do a chant to bring out the magical energy in the blood and then a talisman that was on the table would sense it. The brighter and longer the reaction, the more untapped power there was. Deaton started chanting in an archaic language that sounded beautiful to Stiles’ ears. He then took the container and emptied the blood on top of the round shaped talisman. They waited for a reaction. When the blood settled, there was a sudden flash of light, but it was gone just as soon as it appeared. 

“Well, it seems there is great potential, which is not surprising, but unfortunately, not much strength. The fact that it barely stayed alight means that you will have to train very hard to make your magic strong.”

Stiles couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at that. But at least all hope wasn’t lost. He was used to training and working hard at things, he was never a natural at anything. Why should magic be any different? 

Deaton cleaned up, took all of the objects that had direct contact with stiles’ blood and threw them into the trash. He then dumped a vial of clear liquid into the bin and set it on fire. Stiles was momentarily alarmed by the sudden action. “When working with parts of yourself to perform magic, be it hair, spit or blood, you must never leave remains lying around. Someone who knew what they were doing could cause you serious harm if they ever came upon them, specially charged objects like the spirit stone and the talisman. So always remember, if you’re not using something, destroy it. Better safe than sorry.” Stiles made sure to file that away in his head under Important, Do Not Forget. 

Deaton was not wasting a second today. He started rearranging things around the room to move on to the second test. The Aura ritual, he explained, was to determine how much reach his will had. This would tell them things like from how far he could influence an object and how much his emotions played a part in it. “I’m placing several runes and stones around the room, to sum it up quickly, they will make your aura visible and then we’ll see how much control you have over it. You wont actually be affecting anything magically so don’t worry about that, just follow my instructions” He set the last rock to complete a large circle around where he sat, and stood outside the perimeter.

Stiles noticed a faint glow starting to show through his skin. It was somewhat yellow, with some dark hues here and there. “that’s your Aura Stiles, normally it can’t be seen, but it affects everything around you, how people see you, how they feel towards you, and people with a second sight can tell things about who you are and what you’ve lived, by looking at the color.”

Maybe he should be writing this down? He’s starting to feel a bit of information overload. He should’ve set his phone to record at least. But of course Deaton doesn’t stop there. “so the way this works is, you’re going to try to extend your Aura as far as you can, think of it like filling up a balloon with air, and try to fill your surroundings with it.” 

Stiles concentrates hard on the swirls of hues he can see moving under his skin. He imagines it expanding and growing, and to his surprise it does. He sees how the energy extends beyond his body and starts to get larger. He can’t quite describe how it feels to be seeing and doing this, it’s so foreign to him it’s as if he’s removed from himself. His aura expands more and it fills his field of vision, and the beauty of it blows him away. He sees more than mere colors, he sees emotions, history; he suddenly understands what Deaton meant when he said people with a second sight would know things. He stares at a very dark patch that seems to swallow the yellow color of his aura and feels tremendous sadness, the absence of life, and just knows that spot is because of his mother and Allison. Seeing this gives him such an understanding of how life affects people, even when they don’t know it, and he feels special. Maybe for the first time ever, he feels like he’s seeing something divine, reserved for only the most special of beings. He can no longer make out anything beyond himself, but a the same time he can feel each molecule of air his aura is touching, everything is bathed in yellow and brightness and he just feels so whole. And suddenly it’s gone, and a wave of emptiness crashes over him. 

He looks at Deaton and sees that he’s removed a rune from the circle. He crosses his arms and lowers his head, not wanting to let Deaton know how vulnerable he suddenly feels. 

“That was amazing Stiles, so much better than I expected. If you work hard on increasing your magical stamina, you could be a very powerful witch. Being able to expand one’s aura so much demonstrates a deep awareness of the self and a connection to ones environment.” He sees that Stiles isn’t really paying attention and decides to give him a minute to calm down. “People who do this ritual and are successful in performing it often say that it’s like a religious experience. I need to go check on some things at the front, take your time.”

 

As Deaton leaves the room and shuts the door, Stiles feels the need to tell his dad, Scott, everyone of his friends (even Derek), how much they mean to him. He sends his dad a quick text, saying hello and wishing him a good day and lots of love. He can still sense his Aura coiling around inside his body and he can’t think of another term except that he’s blissed out, and is coming down hard. It almost feels like he’s coming down from a high. He relaxes a bit by breathing slowly and takes this time alone to get his thoughts in order again.

Deaton comes back a few minutes later and sees that Stiles is doing better. The final test isn’t going to be easy and he wonders if it might not be too much for the boy to handle. “Stiles maybe we should stop for today, we can finish another day, there’s no rush.”

He stayed silent a bit before answering. What he didn’t wanna say was that to him, there was a rush. He wanted to be able to defend the one’s he loved. He didn’t want death to take hold of any other part of him, no more than it already had. “If it’s alright with you Deaton, I’d like to keep going. What is the last test for?” He asks, hoping the older man will let them continue.

“If you’re certain you wish to move forward, the last test is the alignment ritual. So far we’ve tested your propensity and potential for magic. This ritual is very intense and it will show us what force you’ll draw your power from. For example, as a Druid emissary, my power is borrowed from nature. That’s why I use so many herbs and stones. It’s the energy that nature lends me that gives me the ability to perform these tests, and any magic I’m capable of. Jennifer Blake was able to harness more magical energy from nature through the sacrifices and rituals that she did. But what you do shapes what you’ll become and in the end, her insides were as twisted as her outsides. Getting back to the point, as a witch, there are 4 primordial forces you can draw power from. Nature is one, Light, Darkness and life. The ritual gives us a direct line to those powers and you can either claim one or one will claim you. That’s how you will find your source of power.”

Stiles nods to let him know that he understands. “How do we begin?”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A while later Stiles is standing on top of a chair, looking down at a circle drawn in white ash (Deaton didn’t specify what it was), with weird symbols on his arms and face written with that same ash. The way Deaton had explained it was that, he would jump into the circle and that would transport his astral self into another plane, were he could meet with the primal forces. This felt like very advanced magic, but he supposed that if anyone knew what they were doing, it had to be Deaton. And there was no way he was backing out now. 

“Stiles before you begin, it’s important that you hold on to this talisman for the complete duration of the ritual, it will protect your mind from being influenced by the powers.” He gave him a round, flat stone with very intricate carvings on each side. He was admiring it closely, but it slipped out of his hands and he tried to catch it before it fell, after all it looked delicate, and he leaned forward very quickly to steady himself while grasping and reaching at the stone, but he lost his balance, and he fell from the chair. He saw the floor getting closer, and shut his eyes to prepare for the horrible blow he was about to receive, but it never came. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It didn’t feel like he was falling anymore. He opened his eyes to see that he was standing in the middle of a clearing surrounded by dark brown trees that looked like they hadn’t bloomed for thousands of years. Beyond that, around him all he could see was white and grey, even the sky was devoid of color. He was totally creeped out and wondered how he could get back to Deaton. He knew his clumsiness would kill him someday, he just really wished it wouldn’t have been so soon. He felt a rustling presence in the trees, just beyond were his ability to see properly ended and he followed the sound until it became two, then three. He didn’t wait around for a fourth presence before he decided to run to the tree line. He thought there might be a better chance of defending himself if he wasn’t out in the open like this. He took two strides forward before being physically thrown back by some invisible force. He looked up form where he fell and saw a faceless being standing in his way. The feelings this “thing” gave him just by gazing at it were disturbing. It filled him with a sense of power beyond comprehension and it made him want to crawl into his own skin and die. It was like the thing wasn’t even there, sucking all the light surrounding it into itself, like a black void. Stiles looked away for fear that if he didn’t, the thing might swallow him whole. He felt the second presence before he saw it. It was to his right and when he looked up, he started crying. Tears of joy and sorrow, the cycle of life was staring back at him, neither old nor new but eternal, flowing. As he felt two other presences settling around him, he knew these where the primordial he’d come to see. He could feel them assessing him, searching his body, his mind, every fiber of his being. He belatedly realized that he didn’t have the talisman Deaton had given him. He was on his own. He could only focus on two of them at a time so he spun around several times to get a peek at all of them. 

YOU SEEK POWER.

He could feel words spoken within him, even though he didn’t hear them. He’d never felt something so unsettling. 

YOU HAVE COME UNPROTECTED. OPEN TO US. WE CAN GIVE YOU THE POWER YOU SEEK.

He didn’t know how else to communicate so he spoke to them. His voiced trembled as he tried to sound more confident than he felt. “I’m supposed to pick one of you, or one of you is supposed to claim me, how do we go about that?”

NOT ONE. ALL. YOU ARE OPEN, UNPROTECTED. YOU CAN YIELD ALL POWER. 

“What does that mean?” He asked, winds picking up and making it harder for him to see. 

YOU WILL HAVE ALL POWER, YOU WILL YIELD ALL POWER. 

He was starting to get even more scared. He didn’t think it was possible to draw power from all 4 forces. He doesn’t have a chance to think anymore because he can feel the 4 beings closing in on him. He sees them get closer and closer, and inside him they chant over and over. 

YOU WILL HAVE ALL POWER, YOU WILL YIELD ALL POWER. YOU ARE OPEN, UNPROTECTED. YOU WILL YIELD ALL POWER. 

He tries to get away, searches for a way out, but they are everywhere, all at the same time, closing him in and when they’re close enough they reach out with ghostly limbs and try to grab him.

YOU WILL YIELD ALL

He barely feels them touch him and it burns him, pain like he’s never felt before. He barely has time to register it before he feels himself falling upwards, like the sky’s pulling him in, he see’s the figures below him reach for him at inhuman lengths, but fail to grab him.

**YOU WILL YIELD ALL**

And as he keeps falling, deeper into the white sky, he loses consciousness. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

He wakes up on the floor of the clinic, his head cradled on a dog bed. He slowly tries to focus on his whereabouts and spots Deaton seating far away from him, but his eyes trained on him intently. 

“Deaton what happened?” He asks. The fear is still present in his mind, turning into latent terror. “What did they do to me?” 

 

“They tried to claim you Stiles, all four powers at once.”He remembered what they told him, all of them talking about power and being unprotected. He wondered how Deaton knew that. He was about to ask when the vet came, knelt next to him and took Stiles’ arm in his hands. “Look.” He said. 

Stiles saw that on his arm there were two distinct handprints drawn on his skin, as white and pale as the ash used to draw the symbols that were there before. He looked at his other arm and saw that it also had two handprints on it. They all tried to take him, make him theirs. “Did it work?” He asked Deaton. “I pulled you out of there before they could take you over, but they’ve marked you. I’ve never heard of all four powers claiming a single being before. You can’t go back in until the marks fade Stiles, otherwise they’ll take you over.” They stood up and Deaton led them o the sink to wipe the ash from Stiles’ skin, but of course the prints didn’t fade. 

He looks at the marks and his face betrays strong emotions for the first time ever.“You were lucky I pulled you out in time. I can’t believe you dropped the talisman, that was so irresponsible. We will stay away from spirit magic and we will focus on gentler matters for the foreseeable future, do you understand? Something like this can’t happen again.”

He nods and looks him right in the eye to make sure Deaton knows he’s listening. But he can’t help but feel disappointed that he won’t be learning magic as fast as he wants to. It’s not like he did it on purpose. 

Stiles tells him he’s ready to go home, and after much reassuring that he’s ok to drive, he asks Deaton when they should meet again. He tells him to take it easy for a few days, and that they can meet Friday after school. He says his goodbyes, thanking Deaton profusely and apologizing even more. His mind is a complete blank the whole way home. When he gets there, he goes straight to his room, throws himself on the bed, and decides to check his phone before sleeping the day’s events away. He sees a couple of texts from Scott and Lydia, asking him for his schedule so they can set a day when he can stay with Derek. The last text from Scott says that since he never sent anything, he will have to go tomorrow and Thursday. He doesn’t have the energy to challenge them on the matter, and doesn’t wanna contemplate the fact that hell be spending tomorrow afternoon with Sourwolf, so he sets his phone on his dresser and shuts his eyes. He has so many mixed emotions about today. He experienced terror, awe, and happiness, among many other things, in such a small window of time. He peered into other worlds and saw incredible things, even for him. He’s not sure where this journey may lead him, or if he’s made the right choice, but after what he went through today, there’s no going back for him. 

If he was as unprotected as the primordials had told him, he would find a way to be strong.


	4. The Cookie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a rough day, made rougher by a cranky werewolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think I'm gonna try and post a chapter at least once a week, that seems like a reasonable time in between chapters. Writing this is giving me a whole new understanding of what fic authors have to go through and it just make me respect them so much more. There's a lot of Sterek interaction in this one, hopefully you like it. I really hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think. Thank you so much for taking the time to read.

After a sleepless night remembering everything he had gone through at Deaton’s, Stiles felt really tired. To make matters worse it was Monday morning, and he was so not ready to face his normal school life. How was he supposed to concentrate on math and calculus while he could still feel the bruises left by four ancient beings on his skin. As he examined his arms, the bruises in questions hadn’t faded in the slightest, which wasn’t really that surprising, but it did pose a problem. His dad would have a coronary if he saw them. He sluggishly got out of bed, took a quick shower and put on a long sleeved plaid shirt over a batman tee, then picked out a random pair of jeans and some white sneakers. He went downstairs to have some breakfast and saw his dad looming over his morning salad. He poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat in front of his dad on the kitchen table.

“Morning dad.”

“Morning Sti-”The sheriff stopped cold when he looked at him. “Are you feeling okay son? You look like death. Do you need to go see a doctor? I can ask parrish to keep an eye on things for me down at the station for a while.”

“I feel fine dad, I just had a rough night.” He felt tired but not sick. He didn’t think it was that bad when he looked in the bathroom mirror after his shower. 

“Are you sure son? Maybe you’re coming down with something. You don’t look good at all.”

Stiles felt briefly hurt by his assessment. “Wow, thanks dad, that’s just what I needed after a horrible night’s sleep, to go to school knowing I look like crap” There wasn’t much bite behind the words. He knew his dad just cared too much. He assured him he was fine and gave him a big hug before he left for school. He supposed he should be grateful to have someone looking out for him. He really loved his dad at times like this. 

He got into his jeep and drove quickly to school. He had a few minutes before the bell rang and he went to his locker to wait for Scott. He saw Lydia coming towards him a second later. “What happened? You look like you haven’t slept in a week.” He should’ve just stayed home today.

“I didn’t sleep well last night, nothing to worry about.”

“You should go see the school nurse” The bell rang loudly, and he waved goodbye to Lydia as he went to his first class. 

It was a really long day. He didn’t have any classes with Scott, so they dragged on more than usual. He honestly didn’t know how he kept such good grades, when he barely paid any attention to the teachers. All of them asked him if he needed to go visit the school nurse. At lunch he went to the bathroom before meeting his friends and really examined himself in the mirror. He had heavy dark circles under his eyes, a deeper shade than usual, his hair hadn’t arranged itself into the messy bedhead look he usually sported these days but instead was matted down on his head in an unflattering way. His lips were dry and he was very pale. But the weirdest thing of all was that his eyes seemed different. He looked closer at them and to his surprise they seemed lighter. It wasn’t such a drastic change that he thought others would notice but they seemed different to him. He thought maybe he was imagining it an perhaps was getting sick, but decided to wait and see if any symptoms developed before he started to worry. 

He ate lunch with his friends and waved away any questions pertaining to his health. He laughed when Malia made a brutally honest comment regarding Kira’s octopus-like attachment to Scott, and got a hard stare from the alpha himself. He ignored him and asked about how his day with Derek had gone yesterday. “Derek was surprisingly chill. We talked about a lot of things and he even told me about his past with Kate. It was intense for a little bit but he’s a really cool guy once you get to know him.” 

Had Scott gone insane? He couldn’t be talking about Derek freaking Hale. The guy was anything but chill. He was sure his best friend was confused. Sourwolf would have to stop growling at people to even begin having anything that could resemble and actual conversation. He told Scott this and he just stared at stiles with his “I’m judging you” look, which was hard for him to pull of with his perpetual lost puppy dog look, so when he managed to do it, stiles really did feel bad. He was totally exaggerating, he knew that, but the exchanges he usually had with Derek included a lot of passive aggressiveness, and also a lot of active aggressiveness (laced with 90% sarcastic comments and jokes). And that was not an exaggeration. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The school day ended and he made his way slowly out of the building, he really wasn’t in much of a hurry to get to the loft. Maybe he was being overly dramatic about the whole thing, it’s not like he actively hated Derek. He actually enjoyed their banter a lot, but he wasn’t sure it was the same for the other man. Mostly Derek showed contempt for Stiles on a good day, and he’d rather not get into what happened on the bad days. Regardless, he was about to spend the entire afternoon with the guy and he was surprised to realize that he felt nervous. He found that extremely weird.

He parked his jeep and took his school bag with him so he could keep busy, out of Derek’s way, and couldn’t shake the nerves even as he knocked on the door to the loft. He realized that this would be the first time they would be spending time alone together for an extended amount and not have an immediate threat to their lives looming over them. He briefly thought, as he felt steps getting nearer and nearer that he would prefer to go back and face the primordials. The door opened and Derek briefly greeted Stiles with a hello and stood aside for him to come in. They didn’t make eye contact at all as Stiles entered the room, silently going to put his book bag on a nearby table. He decided to reciprocate Derek’s civil greeting and try not to be so immature. 

“So what’s up? Anything special going on today?” Derek was picking up some papers that were strewn around the house as he answered. “Nothing at all, really.” When Derek didn’t say more, Stiles realized that was as much of an answer as he was going to get, and he wasn’t about to pry a conversation out of the man. He sat at the table he had put his things on and took out his homework. 

After working quietly for half an hour stiles realized, to his dismay, that he had finished all the schoolwork he had. He packed his things and searched the loft for the other man, wondering what he was up to. From his chair he could see that Derek was lying on the couch reading a book. He wanted to ask him if he could borrow one, but decided he could text one of his friends for a while, not wanting to disrupt the peace and quiet that had formed (it was such a rare occurrence between them as it was). He just needed something to take his mind off of yesterday. He was in the middle of texting Scott when his stomach growled incredibly (and embarrassingly) loud. He looked at Derek, who in turn was staring back at him with angry eyes. The older man left the couch and walked towards the kitchen. “Why didn’t you say you were hungry?” He asked with a slightly irritated tone. He was searching his pantry for what Stiles guessed would be food. “I’m ok sourwolf, didn’t even realize I was hungry ‘till now.” Derek brought him a box of cookies, which wow, he didn’t really expect that he would have any food. He was kind of sure he’d never seen Derek eat anything. “Could you please not call me that, you know I hate i-”Derek stopped mid sentence when he really looked at Stiles’face since he first came to the loft. “What happened to you?” He sounded really concerned. Stiles felt flushed, he wasn’t used to hearing Derek talk to him like that. He tried to look away but Derek grabbed him by the chin and forced Stiles to look at him. “Your eyes look different” He said. Stiles thought this felt vaguely violating, seeing as he was getting fully exposed to a death glare from Grumpy McGrumperpants. He slapped Derek’s hand away, turned from him and got up from were he’d been doing his homework. “There’s no need to assault my face you know. I feel perfectly fine, you don’t need to make a big deal out of it. Everybody’s already told me that I look like shit today, so you’re kind of late to the party.”

“You look like someone’s draining the life out of you Stiles.” That comment hurt him a little bit more than he thought it would. He had had it with everyone telling him he looked awful. Were they all in on a secret plan to destroy his self-esteem?

“Well if looking at me is so discomforting, then why don’t you just put a bag over my head and call it a day?”

“That’s not what I meant”Derek said, even looking a bit offended. 

Stiles was mad. Why did Derek have to get to him so much? It’s like everything the man did was exasperating to him somehow. He leaned his back against a wall close by and crossed his arms, then continued to give Derek a piece of his mind. “You know, I didn’t even wanna come here, but I think Scott’s right to try and make us stick together as much as we can. You should talk to Lydia or whoever it is that’s putting together the schedule so that we don’t end up together, since it’s obviously so inconvenient for you.”

Derek tried to get a word in.“Stiles you’re not listening to m-“

“And I’m sorry to break it to you but we are both in this pack, and you insist on making me feel like I don’t matter we-”

In less than a second Derek was in front of him. He crashed both his palms on the wall, next to his head, effectively shutting Stiles up.

“I have never once thought you didn’t matter. Don’t put words in my mouth.” He was way to close. It made Stiles feel uncomfortable, but not in the way he expected. All he could see was Derek’s eyes and feel the heat radiating from his body. 

Stiles was sort of breathless when he spoke up again. “Ok, I’m sorry.” He didn’t really understand why they hadn’t separated yet. They were still looking at each other, they were in each other’s personal space, but they weren’t doing anything else. He was starting to sense something every time they wound up in these situations, a feeling that made him question things about himself he never thought he’d question. And it was getting harder to ignore that feeling. 

After what seemed like forever, Derek pushed away from him. “You have to stop taking everything I say like an insult. Like you said, we’re pack. You matter to me.”Derek seemed to sense he had let something personal slip and quickly amended his statement. “All of you matter to me.”

Stiles was still reeling from the close encounter, but he did feel like he had to apologize for freaking out on Derek. The guy was trying his best to stop bickering. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be difficult. I guess I just got used to being sarcastic as our default way of communicating.”

“I’m not saying we’re never gonna get on each other’s nerves again, just that we should try and start acting more like pack, less like enemies.”Derek waited for Stiles to answer.

“Ok. I’ll try to be more civil. But you gotta stop throwing and pinning me to stuff.”

“I will if you’ll have actual conversations with me instead of one sided assumptions.”

He reluctantly agreed and grabbed for the cookies Derek had gotten from the kitchen. He split one and held out one half for him to take as peace offering. “I can’t promise not to call you sourwolf, but other than that, you’ve got a deal”

Derek furrowed his brow in confusion. “I don’t understand why you insist on calling me that” 

“Dude, it’s like the perfect nickname for you. I can’t give it up”Stiles was not about to surrender the only moniker that fit Derek like a glove, and was hilarious at the same time. 

“If it’s that necessary, fine. I only ask that you dial back the amount you use it, keeping in mind that we are trying to build a peace.” He stared at Stiles waiting for an affirmative. “Fine, deal. Take the damn cookie.” Derek grabbed the cookie and took a big bite out of it. “Now that we’re talking as pack members, I feel like I need to tell you that I know you’re up to something.” 

Stiles almost choked on his cookie. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said, trying to keep his calm. Derek was not about to let it go however. “You look like you’re sick, you’re eyes are different and you smell weird.”

“I don’t think offending me is the best way to broker peace between us.” Stiles answered. He was about to have a heart attack. Hadn’t Deaton said they wouldn’t be able to smell anything this early on?

“I wont get into it with you again, you can tell me when you feel ready, just know that you can. I’ll listen. If you’re in trouble, or you need help with something, you can tell me, I’m more than just claws and teeth. I can help.” Derek was being really sincere right now. Stiles never thought he’d see a day in which Derek Hale asked to be confided in. It’s almost as if he was asking to be his friend. And Stiles was startled to find that the idea actually sounded nice. “Thanks Derek. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

They stood in silence for a few seconds more before Derek nodded and went back to read on the couch. Stiles actually bothered to ask for a book this time and amazingly enough, sourwolf didn’t bite his hand off. He lent him a book that turned out to be a bestiary. 

“Dude, where did you get this?”Stiles had never seen another bestiary that wasn’t the Argents’.

“My family had a huge library, at home and in the hale vault. I have a lot of obscure books.” His face took on a somewhat melancholic expression. Scott was right, Derek was trying to open up to them and be more chill. He was talking about his family of his own volition. That was big.

“Awesome. You need to show it to me sometime.” Stiles said excitedly. Derek looked at him and smiled just a tiny bit “Maybe I will. If we can keep being polite to one another, I don’t see why I can’t show a fellow pack member my collection.” 

Stiles bobbed his head up and down eagerly and both men turned their attention to the books that were waiting for them. He couldn’t believe how this afternoon had turned out. He now had a newly cemented ally and the promise of kickass reading material. For now he decided to relax and dive into this new bestiary. He needed to go to Deaton’s as soon as possible and ask him about what was happening (he was sure the reason he was physically haggard was because of the magic tests). He had to focus on that, and now that Derek was offering to be his friend, he needed to push all those weird feelings away, there was no need to make this situation more awkward than it already was. He could act normal around Derek, and not let any of his secrets slip. 

Magical secrets of course, what else could he possibly have to confess to the guy?


	5. The Books of Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets interesting reading material from different sources. And things take a turn for the worse on the Derek front.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I've been getting some comments on the story, I just wanna thank those who have left one and also for all the kudos. It really does help keep you motivated. When you feel stuck but you see that people are enjoying the story, it makes you want to keep going. A lot happens in this chapter and I had fun writing it, things are getting more intense. I hope you like it. I tried to get it out earlier for all of you, so please enjoy.

Stiles left Derek’s loft as late as his 10 pm curfew would allow him. He wondered if any of this spending time at Derek's would really work, seeing as he would still be left alone at nights, but it's not like he was gonna volunteer for a sleep over, so he pushed the thought out of his head. He asked to borrow this new bestiary and was now immersed in its pages. Being on good terms with Derek had its perks. He had been too paranoid to read the chapter on Magic when he was at the loft, so after getting home and saying goodnight to his dad (and his dad commenting that he still looked pretty bad and that he could miss school tomorrow if he wasn't feeling good, which wow), he propped the book open on his bed and read as fast as he could; there would be no sleeping tonight until he read it all. He found that Deaton had pretty much covered the basics, but the bestiary went into more detail about certain aspects of magic. It talked about the primordial powers and what each of them is about, the types of magic each one allows and “elements” that each power draws energy from. The 4 powers represented the spirit of magic and, in turn, the spirit of the magic practitioner. The primordials were named in latin, but it never referred to them as beings, only powerful forces. Although the information was condensed, it was still very useful.

 

_**THE FORCES OF WITCHCRAFT** _

_**Vis Naturae:** Force of Nature_  
This magic feeds from the earth, the tides and the winds. It enables the practitioner to borrow energy from elements of nature to use in their own magics. Druids, Shamans and alchemists are types of practitioners that specialize in Nature magic.

 _ **Vim Lucis:** Force of Light _  
This magic feeds off of intention and will. It is powerful in the sense that it's practitioners do not need to use external objects to cast or spell. The heart and mind of the practitioner must be clear of ill thought and feeling (The stronger the goodness in them, the more power they posses (referred to as "Light" by Lucis followers). With their inner "Light", powers can range from mental abilities to physical expressions such as Photokinesis, and some can even communicate with higher powers. Healers, Divinators, Telepaths and Psychics are types of practitioners that specialize in Light magic.

 _ **Vim Tenebrarum:** Force of Darkness _  
Like Vim Lucis, this magic feeds off of intention and will, except that it finds nourishment in dark thoughts and actions. The practitioners of this magic serve selfish whims and desires, without regard for others, and often with dramatic effects for those around them. They have contact with powers from below and the ability to summon occult forces. Voodooists, Summoners and Sorcerers are types of specialized Dark practitioners, but most tend to express similar, and often opposite, powers to Lucis followers.

 _ **Vis Vitae:** Life force_  
This is a very primal type of magic. It literally draws power from the flow of life and death, and is used to harness or channel energy. Necromancers, Soul eaters and Blood casters are some practitioners of Vis Vitae.

 

He kept on reading and found that witches were supposed to chose or receive a power source upon beginning their practice, and that the most powerful witches could even lay claim to two powers at a time. The bestiary said the most powerful witch in history claimed 3 powers. Stiles stopped reading and looked at the handprints on his arms. Deaton had said that all 4 powers had tried to claim him, but maybe he was wrong. If the most powers a witch had ever claimed were 3, how could he claim 4? Not possible. Maybe the marks mean that he can choose any power he wants, that it's up to him. He read a bit more about the history of some infamous witches, but there wasn't really any other information he found particularly useful. He reread the section on the forces of witch craft and wondered which one he would be able to claim. Which one would be more useful? What he expected to get out of this is the ability to take an offensive stand against his enemies and also be able to properly defend his family and friends. Does that mean that maybe dark magic was the way to go? The bestiary made it sound evil, but maybe it didn't have to be that way. Nature seemed a bit too passive as far as he could tell, so it might not be what he needs. Light sounded very interesting but also kind of vanilla, and Vis Vitae just sounded scary. After thinking on it for a long time he finally started feeling sleepy and with no foreseeable answers, he decided to give in. All in all, the day ended a lot better than it started. Tomorrow he'd have to go to Deaton's, he could not wait until friday, and hopefully the man will have some answers on why he looks like crap. As he sleeps he has weird dreams of sexy things happening in old libraries, with someone who is decidedly not Derek. Not at all.

 

* * *

 

 

School the next day was pretty uneventful, except for the fact that everyone still told him that he looked like crap and Lydia had finished making the schedule for everyone. She gave each one of them a copy so everyone could look it over, she was nothing if not prepared. Stiles immediately saw that he had 3 days out of the week marked as Derek, two of them on the weekend, everyone else only had one during the week. "What is this?" He asked. Did they really think they would get away with pawning Sourwolf off on him? "Did you seriously think I wouldn't notice?"

Lydia looked pissed. "Contrary to what you believe Stiles, we did not conspire to make your life miserable. You never sent me an email with the details of your after school activities, so I assumed that you didn't have any, and I checked with Scott to see if he knew of any impediment you might have, but he said you had none, which is why you got the most days with Derek. Are you trying to tell me that you do, in fact, have something that you need to do after school that we don't know about?" It was a trap. A sinister trap concocted by Lydia to find out what Stiles has been up to. No, she couldn't possibly know about the witch thing, and he was not about to tell any of them about it, but he would have to lie to them to get one free day a week, he needed to meet with Deaton at least once a week. "As a matter of fact I do. I need to work fridays at the station with my dad every week to help him pay off the bill for my stay at Eichen House" He had actually offered to do this, but his dad refused outright, saying it was not his responsibility. Lydia actually looked somewhat contrite and Scott looked surprised.

"Why didn't you say anything? We never keep secrets dude." Scott said. He was hurt, Stiles could tell.

"I didn't wanna have to focus on bills and money with you guys, I just wanted to put it out of my mind" He was a horrible person for lying about this, but he had no choice.

"Well you won't be spending fridays with Malia then, she can hang with Scott and Kira and work on her control, or she can come with me and study more Math." Lydia said. Malia has a look of terror in her eyes when Lydia suggests she do more Math. Stiles belatedly realizes that he could've chosen a day were he and Derek had to stay together, but the universe seemed adamant on pushing them into situations like these as often as possible. At least they were friendly now. Although he was sort of bummed about Malia. Their romance had kind of fizzled out after leaving Eichen house, but he really liked spending time with her. She was hilarious. Not on purpose, but still.

"Fine, So that's settled then" He says. They part ways and after checking the schedule again Stiles realizes that he'll also have to spend today with Derek.

Wonderful.

 

* * *

 

 After School he decides to go and see Deaton before going to the loft. He finds him caring for a sick dog in the back room. Stiles greets him and when the vet looks at him, his eyes almost bug out oh his head. He has to try really hard not to laugh as he waits for Deaton to comment on his looks.

"I take it you came to ask about your appearance?" He says, putting the dog in a nearby cage carefully.

"Do you know what's happening?" Stiles really hopes that he does.

"You're decaying." He says calmly. Like he hadn't just told him that he was turning into a fucking zombie. 

"I'M DIYING?" Stiles was about to have a heart attack. Would that complete the zombie transformation? He hand't had the chance to say goodbye to anyone. What was he gonna do?

"You're not dying Stiles. Decaying is what witches call whats happening to you right now. It's a time when your body's energy and vitality starts depleting, and your physical self undergoes changes. It'll keep getting worse until you slip into a coma, bu-"

Stiles interrupts in a panicked frenzy."OH MY GOD, I'M GONNA BE BRAIN DEAD!"

"Stiles stop being dramatic and let me finish. You'll fall into a coma, it's actually a trance, but if it happens at school or at home that's what people are gonna think is it is. I didn't mean to scare you, I apologize. When you fall into the trance, you will visit the plane of the primordial powers. You will be forced to chose one power or one will claim you, but you won't come back unless you have been aligned. It's very rare for someone to experience decaying, it means the powers are angry that you didn't choose a side. But it's not supposed to be happening this fast, usually it takes a month to even know it's starting. At the rate you're going you'll fade in two weeks time, and who knows how long it'll take you to wake up. Your situation is becoming more unusual by the second. I will have to reach out to some acquaintances." Deaton looks worried. He asks Stiles to show him the marks on his arms. Stiles hand't really paid attention to them since yesterday, trusting that they would fade with time, but looking at them now, each one actually looks darker, more defined, and somewhat larger. They even have distinct hues. He was screwed. 

"Stiles, I urge you not to worry. I need you to give me time to contact some people. In the meantime, I think it's best to educate yourself on each of the powers, seeing as you will be choosing one soon. I have some very important books that will help you with your decision. I had them brought to me, so we wouldn't have to wait after your alignment ritual to start practicing magic. Most witches come back aligned and ready to keep going after their first tests. Im so sorry this is happening." Deaton goes to the supply room and comes back with 4 big tomes. "These are the books of primordial powers. Each volume speaks of one power source and delves deep into what they're about, and the type of magic that each one allows. Do not attempt to try any of the spells in any of the books, we don't know what could happen with your current state."

Stiles looks at the books and eagerly takes them from Deaton. They seem old, and they're kind of heavy, but he feels something good when he holds them, like he could do anything.

 

The vet tells him that they should meet friday, like they had originally planned, so he has some time to contact the people he needs. Stiles agrees and leaves the clinic after saying goodbye. He puts the books in a tote bag that he had thankfully left in his car, and heads to the loft. He hopes Derek doesn't notice if he's too quiet today, he has too many things to think about.

 

* * *

 

 

When he gets to the loft, Derek let's him in after opening the door before he even knocks, like it's not creepy at all. Stiles tries to say hello, but when he doesn't get a response, he just puts his stuff down on the table near the kitchen (Including the tote bag with the magic books), not wanting to get in Derek's way. Apparently it wasn't in the cards for him.

"Where the hell have you been?" Derek asks in a tight tone. He looks like he's ready to murder Stiles.

"Relax, I just had to get some books for some school work."

"You're two hours late. You didn't call, you didn't tell any of the others you were gonna be late, what was I supposed to think Stiles? It was a really stupid move on your part, Kate could've taken you and we wouldn't have been able to do anything. Do you wanna get kidnapped? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? I WAS GOING OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND" He was furious and it didn't seem like that was gonna change soon.

"I'm sorry, ok? i didn't mean to make you guys worry. There's a really important paper I'm working on and I needed to get these books." More lies. Stiles is morbidly grateful that he had so much practice with his dad. Lying has become second nature.

Derek doesn't seem to buy it. "If they were so important, we could've gone together. Besides, you're hiding something. You're not telling me the whole truth." So much for lying being second nature.

Stiles tries to ignore him and go sit at the table to tune him out, but Derek grabs his arm before he gets too far away. Sourwolf unknowingly applies too much pressure on the marks on Stiles' arms and he screams in pain. Derek lets him go and Stiles instinctually cradles his whole arm. The wolf apologizes and asks to see it, but Stiles refuses. They argue about it until Derek's had enough and rips his shirt right of him, exposing both his arms. Thank god he'd worn an undershirt. Stiles tries to hide the marks but the other man is too quick and has both his hands in a death grip, as he examines the handprints now on full display. Stiles doesn't know how he's gonna get out of this.

 

"You're a witch." Derek says, his eyes boring into him as his grip tightens. 

Stiles is definitely screwed.


	6. The Staring Contest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles deals with Derek's accusations, and maybe gets closer to the wolf in the process. Feels and angst ensue.

Stiles is frozen for a second. He didn't want to believe that he had heard Derek correctly, but there was no way he'd misunderstood. Derek kept tightening his grip, it was beginning to hurt Stiles' wrists, and his undershirt was also torn, exposing too much for comfort, which just made the situation so much worse, he felt too vulnerable.

Stiles forcefully pulled his hands from the wolf's grip, it almost ripped his arms off "Get your hands off me, you're hurting me." He needed to cover up, unfortunately he only had the remains of his tattered shirt. He grabbed them and tried cover up anyway. Derek wasn't saying anything, he just stared at him intently, waiting of an answer. Stiles tried to think of some way to refute it, to make fun of his statement, but ultimately his brain failed him, and all that left his lips was an admission, but in the form of a question. "How did you know?" He said, eyes starting to water. He clutched the the mangled fabric of his shirt closer to his chest, as if doing so would allow him to stand tall against the questions he was sure Derek would ask. He wasn't sure he could say out loud why he had chosen this path. That was a secret he wasn't ready to share, how he felt so absolutely powerless to help everyone around him. And how could someone with such innate power understand how he felt?

Derek could sense he was breaking, Stiles could see it in the man's eyes, because suddenly they weren't filled with unspoken accusations, but with regret and empathy. The wolf took a few steps back, to give him some space, and spoke up. "Peter's wife was a witch. She felt that she needed to gain power to be able to protect her family. What happened with the argents wasn't the first run in we'd had with hunters and a particularly nasty one left her shaken up. She sought help from an old acquaintance and started practicing magic. I remember when I saw marks like that on her, they had this otherworldly glow to them. I asked her about it, she said she had a choice to make, and that she'd be a full witch soon. But she didn't have as many marks as you. She was a decent practitioner and she tried to teach us many things regarding her magic. But even she couldn't stop the fire from killing them all."

Stiles was speechless. Derek had never been so open about anything with him before, and he was pretty sure that was the most he'd ever heard the man say. So maybe Derek did have and idea of why Stiles would choose to become a witch, maybe he could understand some of what he was going through. That didn't mean Stiles had to answer him fully. Some journeys are meant to be personal. He at least felt a bit better. "Thank you for sharing that with me. I will not tell you why I chose to do this, but I will tell you that it's the reason why I was late today and why I've been looking so sick. I'm going through a lot of changes right now, and it's something that I need to face alone, so please don't tell the others Derek. I need to finish going through what's happening to me and I know it'll be harder with all of them worrying about me, and some of them might not understand."

Derek's face changed from an open expression to a closed one. "I can't just lie to the others, to Scott, he's my Alpha." The wolf looked absolutely resolute.

Stiles approached him and tried to make eye contact, so he could convey just how important this was. "Derek please. I need you to keep this a secret. I'm not ready for them to know. You basically forced it out of me and that's not fair either, you owe me for that, both for the shirt and for the way you treated me. This totally goes against our deal, that we'd try to make peace. If you really meant it, I'm asking you to do this for me, as a show of good faith. I need to know that I can trust you. I _want_ to trust you."

He hoped Derek would understand that he was being sincere, and that he needed this. The older man looked at him with such intensity that Stiles felt he need to look away. He didn't though, he had to make him understand. So they locked onto each other for what felt like an eternity, unexpressed emotions going back and forth. Finally Derek broke the silence when he noticed Stiles was shivering.

"Ok. I won't say anything. But in exchange for my silence, I expect to be kept up to date with everything that's going on with you and your magic. And you'll start by filling me in on everything that's already happened. You need to confide in someone who's pack Stiles." The way Derek was standing suggested that there wasn't gonna be an alternative compromise. So he silently agreed with the terms and wrapped his arms and the fabric in them tighter around himself. "But first let's get you a shirt." Derek said, and Stiles followed him silently, realizing that he was in fact cold.

When they got to Derek's dresser, he gave Stiles a shirt that was way to big for him.  Stiles would just have to make do, he seriously doubted that there would be anything in his size inside the loft. Derek took the scraps of fabric from Stiles as well as his torn undershirt, turning away as he stripped and went to throw them away in the kitchen. Stiles put the shirt on and felt oddly comfortable in it. When Derek came back, his eyes were transfixed on Stiles, and he sniffed the air a few times, seeming to savor something in it. Stiles chose not to indulge him in his freaky tendencies and took a seat on Derek's bed. The wolf didn't seem to mind so he collected his thoughts for a moment before he told him about everything that had happened.

 

Stiles recounted everything that had happened with Deaton and his magic tests, what had happened in the plane of the primordials, and what he'd learned form the vet after visiting him this afternoon. It had taken him a long time to describe everything to the wolf, and he also found himself sharing more than he strictly had to. It felt nice to finally be able to share all of it with someone, or maybe it just felt nice to finally be confiding in Derek. That was something he didn't have to share. 

After listening to everything, with a surprisingly patient attitude, Derek started asking the hard questions. "So you which power are you going to choose?"

"I don't really know yet. That's why I have all the books with me. I hope that after reading up on each of them I can find the one that suits me best. The bestiary you lent me had some useful info on the subject, although it wasn't very in-depth." Stiles went to grab the tote bag and the books and sat down at the table near the kitchen to begin looking through them. he grabbed a tome and after leafing through it a bit he saw that he'd grabbed the Vis Vitae Book. The description the bestiary had given him of this type of power and the types of practitioners gave him goosebumps, so he decided to leave that one for last. Derek had followed him and was looking over his shoulder as he examined the books.

"These books look so old" Derek said. He was on Stiles' right side, The wolf's head level with his, as Stiles tried to focus on reading the second book he'd grabbed, Vis Naturae. But Derek didn't seem to realize how close he was and how, when he spoke, his words brushed against Stiles' ear in a warm and suggestive breeze. Getting any reading done would be impossible. He was about to tell him to back up a bit when he heard, and _felt_ , Derek drawing little quick breaths.

Stiles couldn't believe what was happening. "Dude, Are you smelling me?"

He turned his head to look at the man, and was presented with Derek's face a breath away from his. They were way too close, someone had to move. He knew he should move since Derek didn't seem to be willing, but for some reason he couldn't find the will to do so.

"Why where you sniffing me?" Stiles whispered, acutely aware that his breath was ghosting over the other man's face. 

Derek took a while to answer, he opened his mouth as if to start several times, but then he would just close it, hesitation written clearly on his features. "You... The s... My shirt. The smell." he seemed to be holding back something. The wolf just kept staring at him and Stiles had no choice but to stare back. He had the type of eyes that people write poems about, beautiful sonnets that would describe the never ending array of colors that seemed to shine from his eyes. Derek had said something about his shirt and the smell, did it bother him that Stiles was wearing his shirt? He could understand if that was the case, wolves were supposed to be very territorial creatures.

"Should I take it off?" Stiles whispered.

He'd meant to make his answer convey that he was ok with it, if it bothered Derek that much. But from the way the other man's eyes almost bugged out of his head, he guessed that wasn't the solution. Stiles looked at Derek's lips, slightly parted and oddly inviting, and he felt so much want that the force of it almost left him dizzy. he glanced back up at Derek and when he was about to do something about it, the wolf abruptly pushed back.

"I'm gonna go open a window. I'll let you read in peace Stiles." Derek said as he left Stiles' side.

What had just happened? Stiles couldn't believe that he let himself get so caught up in his emotions. He'd come really close to making a fool of himself, there was no way Derek would react well to being kissed by him. And why had he even thought that was a possibility? He'd totally misread the situation, specially since Derek was just being weird and wolfy. And now he'd just made the both of them very uncomfortable, Derek could probably smell his arousal, no wonder he had to go open a window.

Derek didn't speak to him after that for the entire night and Stiles wasn't about to try and spark up a conversation. He decided that he would just concentrate on the books and try not to drown in his embarrassment. He could do that. maybe...

 

* * *

  

Stiles left the loft that night feeling very weirded out. He'd promised himself that the confusing feelings he harbored for Derek would never reach the surface, but of course they make themselves know the first chance they get. He doesn't know how he's supposed to face him on the weekend. He gets home and doesn't even bother with food, he isn't the least bit hungry and doesn't have to pretend to be, since his dad is at the station. He changes quickly and takes the books to his bed, and prepares to go through them more carefully now that he can actually focus on what they say. Reading the introduction to each of them tells him that they all contain an in-depth look into the magics and rituals behind the powers, and what's most helpful is that each of them actually has the same chapter on new witches and how they should go about exploring their powers. Stiles knows this means that no one is supposed to have all four tomes, since no one could possibly need them all, hence the need to repeat basic information in all of them. The chapter confirms this as it says that once a witch has a power source, all the others are off limits. Excepting the rare cases of powerful witches that have been claimed by more than one power, a practitioner can only perform the magic specified by his or her chosen power.

Stiles then reads the second chapter of each book, which talks about the basic characteristics that each practitioner needs to keep in mind when dealing with their power. One book talks about how Lucis followers needed to be mindful of their moral compass, seeing as their magic is very dependent on their actions and thoughts, and in some cases, a witch's power could disappear if they go against their true nature. He also read how Vim Tenebrarum tended to make it's hosts morally corrupt, and how the magic could feed off of that corruption. There were entries on how Naturae followers were usually considered the weakest of the witches, but how that was a misconception, brought upon by the usually calm demeanors of it's practitioners. And he also read how Vis Vitae followers could manipulate the flow of life and cast powerful spells either on themselves or on others, and how the nature of those spells was mostly for dark purposes. Naturae witches tended to clash with Vitae witches, they considered them an affront to nature and the order of the world. Light witches were considered very monastic and usually chose a life of chastity and servitude. Dark witches were all about achieving desires and self-fulfillment. So many facts and so many choices, he tried to take them all in, see which power he could relate to, but ultimately he just ended up short circuiting his brain. He fell asleep on top of the four volumes, reading about powerful forces, and yet the last thing that crosses his mind before he sleeps is the the way Derek's voice caressed his ear and how his multicolored eyes had stayed on him so unwaveringly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So which power do you think Stiles will choose? I really wanna hear your thoughts. I also wanna thank everyone for reading. I apologize for any mistakes you might find (I don't have a beta), if you care to point them out to me, I will gladly change them. I'm thinking of making some manips for the chapters, I might try them out :P


	7. The Confession, Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles can't seem to focus on anything, and he blames Derek's stupid face, and muscles, and existence...

Stiles woke up the next day to a horrible surprise. His pillow was covered in various tufts of light brown hair, and when he went to check his reflection in the bathroom he confirmed it was his. He had several bald spots on his head and, to make matters worse, his skin was ghostly white and his eyes were now very noticeably lighter, an almost amber color. It was at times like these that he thanked a higher power for the fact that his dad was never home, he didn't have time to deal with the inevitable freak out that would've ensued. Putting on a beanie and some hipster glasses Scott had given him as a joke managed to hide his condition a bit, but he knew this solution couldn't be permanent. He would get caught sooner or later. For now he would just get ready for school and hope the teachers weren't jerks about his beanie.

 

* * *

 

 

School was a disaster as usual. He got detention for refusing to take off his beanie and had to talk to his english teacher alone after class to show her what was wrong. He saw her tear up which was funny, but then, oh god, she thought he was dying. He walked away and left her while she wiped silent tears from her face, and he thought about how this could possibly get any worse. He managed to avoid everyone until lunch and even then he made an quick appearance and excused himself to go to the library to supposedly finish homework he didn't have. Before he left Scott asked him about his new look. "Can't a guy try something new once in a while?" Stiles said defensively. They all stared at him unbelievingly and he made his escape, not bothering to make plans with Lydia, with whom he was supposed to meet up with today after school. he would have to skip his last class and go buy some cheap brown contact lenses. Stiles could count on everyone else not noticing, they had their own crap to deal with, but Lydia was beautifully vicious and cunning and had hawklike vision, so she would notice his eyes in a second and ask a storm of questions he couldn't quite answer right now. He didn't even bother going to the rest of his classes and just skipped out. He did not want to deal with anything at all today, everything just felt confusing and his friends felt to constricting, so he leaves to find some peace and time alone. Of course, he ends up going to Derek's loft instead.

 

* * *

 

"What are you doing here?" Derek asks after he answers his door and Stiles powers into the loft like he owns the place and comes to a stop in front of the windows, looking out at them pensively. Derek shuts the door and crosses his arms as he waits for an answer, and realizes that he isn't wearing a shirt and whoa this feels uncomfortable. Stiles turns to face Derek and takes in the man in front of him, then he realizes why it was a stupid idea to come here in the first place. Derek is tied with all the witchy stuff as one the most important reasons why he can't focus on his own life. An having his muscles distracting him even further is not ideal.

"I think I like you" Stiles blurts out. Because he's an idiot who can't control his mouth, but at least he didn't say anything even more embarrassing, like how he felt even more strongly about the wolf, and like was a feeble word for all the emotions that erupted every time he thought of him. Derek eyes bug out of their sockets for a second and it's hilarious but he can't laugh now, not when he's just admitted something that changes everything between them. His heartbeat accelerates with each passing minute and Derek can't seem to formulate a response. Finally he starts moving, first uncrossing his arms, them taking a tentative step forward. And slowly but surely Derek makes his way towards him. Stiles starts an internal freakout. Will he get punched in the face? Should he go away? Derek stops his excruciatingly slow walk toads stiles an arms length away. He reaches with his hand and Stiles momentarily flinches, hoping that he won't get hurt, but Derek seems to be reaching for his hand, and then everything sort of happens in slow motion.

The windows of the loft get blown out and both of them shield their eyes from the debris as they scamper away from the blast. Stiles feels a few shards embed themselves throughout his body. When he can finally look up, he sees Berserkers making their way towards him and Derek. One of the beasts grabs him by the neck to get a good look at his face, as if checking to see if he matters. Apparently that's not the case, since the monster casts him aside with such a brutal force that when he hits the wall he feels his left arm break and his head get slashed open by the impact. It takes a moment for him to be able to focus back on what's happening while he tries to wipe away the blood that was getting in his eyes. He sees Derek being beaten into submission by three Berserkers and Kate standing idly by the broken window, relishing the pain her pets are inflicting.

"Hello Stiles. You really have a talent for getting caught up in other people's fights." Kate says, as she saunters over to him, a sick grin on her face. He could tell she was really enjoying seeing him in pain, and as if to prove her point, she grabbed his face and after forcing him to her level, she licked the gash on his forehead savoring the blood that was still flowing steadily. He was so overcome with hatred and shock that he couldn't even begin to formulate a response, and at the same time, pain surged at different points in his body.

"Oh sweetie don't worry, we don't want you, we came for Derek. " She lets go of him and he crumples back to the floor unceremoniously. She walks over to where Derek is now barely conscious, being held in between the berserkers, face bloodied and bruised, and runs her hands around his bare torso. Stiles thinks that bitch has a problem with the concept of personal space. 

"Derek, I hope you don't mind tagging along. I found a way to gain control over my shift and I need a wolf to make it happen, so naturally I thought of your gorgeous face." She stops touching him and turns back to face Stiles. "I know the others are at school Stiles, so help won't be coming for a while." She talks to the Berserkers holding Derek and tells them to take him away. Stiles starts to panic and can't help but feel helpless all over again. He feels stupid for thinking that learning magic would help him with any of his problems, if anything it left him even weaker and more defenseless. He couldn't get the power he needed, he couldn't save Derek, and worst of all he couldn't save himself, and now they were both at the mercy of Kate because of it. He tries uselessly to summon magical energy to try and send an attack towards her, he remembers what he was able to do at the magic trials and all that he'd read from the tomes, and hopes against all odds that he can manage to cast any sort of spell. He doesn't sense any type of power in or around him, and that's left after his hopefulness fades is an overwhelming feeling of vulnerability, of weakness. Kate starts walking back to him. "I think you should really get a doctor to check you out, you really don't look so good, and what I'm about to do isn't gonna make it any better, but I can't let you ruin things for me so soon. I need a head start, so just to make sure you don't cause any trouble..." She walks towards him and Stiles tries to get up and run, but her black Stiletto boot races towards his eyes and before he can register what's happening, the lights go out around him and all he sees and feels is darkness. 

 

Stiles wakes up to a throbbing pain in his head and when he tries to stand up he feels another jolt from his arm. He rolls onto his back and tries to sit up, and while he manages to do so, he gets so dizzy he has to physically hold back the urge to throw up. Seeing the mess the loft is in and that it's still daylight makes him realize that not much time has passed since Kate took Derek, so he ignores his pain and looks for his cellphone, but he can't find it on him. He left it in the car, of course it would be there at a time like this. He stands up slowly, feels some shards of glass that are stuck to his knees, and stops for a second to scream internally before forcing his way through the pain and beginning his awkward trek to the car. He wobbles somewhat as he walks to his car, his balance apparently not its usual semi-reliable self. After getting to the jeep and thankfully not running into anyone in Derek's creepy apartment building, he jumps in as quickly as he can and sees his cellphone on the passenger's seat. He grabs it with his good arm and sees that school still won't be over for another hour, so he can't call for back up since the pack will get heir phones confiscated if any teacher sees them during class. He decides he can't wait an hour and does the stupid thing and drives towards Deaton's clinic (he could use medical attention anyways), with only one working arm, a probable concussion and a bloody everything. 

 

* * *

 

 

Halfway to the clinic, Stiles starts to get too dizzy to keep on driving, even going at his current snail pace, so he decides to go home instead, which is only two blocks away. He miraculously manages to park in his driveway decently and get into his house unnoticed, and he immediately heads upstairs, tripping on every other stair, and goes to the bathroom to throw up, barely making it. He looks at his reflection in the mirror and takes off his beanie, which had gotten glued to his skin with blood from the gash on his forehead,  and the rest of his hair comes off with it, leaving only a few pathetic tufts around his scalp. He could not look more damaged even if he tried. His eyes had somehow faded even more and were now past being amber and were a pale yellow color, almost white. He looked dead.

He staggers towards his room as he tries to think through the haze of pain. He needs to call Melissa, so she can help bandage him up somehow, there would be no going to the hospital like this, when he could barely walk. His vision starts to cloud over and he searches for his cellphone, but he can't find it and he realizes that he moronically left it in the jeep again. He was gonna die because he forgot his cellphone in his car, and he couldn't think of a more stupid way to go. He trips over some dirty laundry and falls hard, but manages to twist and avoid his broken arm before he makes contact with the carpet in his room. Lying on the floor and not being able to move, he starts to get hit with images of what had just happened at the loft, the way he was so easily overpowered by all of his enemies, the way Kate had just taken Derek and he hadn't been able to do so much as protest, and tears start stinging his eyes. He supposes it was obvious that their plan and their stupid schedule wouldn't do any good in the end, they couldn't be together all the time, and being with Stiles was as good as being alone, Kate had just proved that. He is so sick of being beaten down, of having to face off against foes that are more powerful than he will ever be, and he's starting to see that maybe he was never meant to be strong, never meant to be a powerful witch, and most terrifying of all, that maybe he's just not meant to win.

 

He feels and hears some rustling beside him and turning his head painfully, he sees that the books of power are moving by themselves. He watches as they arrange themselves around his body, opening their pages up to impossible lengths, and he knows that they have locked him into a magical circle. He can't explain how he knows what's happening, but the energy he feels buzzing around him is the same as the time he fell into the ash circle at Deaton's clinic. That same feeling let's him know that he is being summoned by the Primordials. His time was up and now he had to face the powers head on and make a decision. He still didn't know what he wanted to choose, but that didn't seem to matter as he felt his body become weightless and his room fade out of existence, only to be replaced by the eerie whiteness of fog, the  silence of a dead forest, and the shadows of four towering figures standing directly in front of him. In his head, he hears the terrifying voices of all the powers as they speak in unison once again.  

POWER OR DEATH. THERE IS NO OTHER WAY. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being late with this chapter, this was a busy week. Hope you enjoyed it and I will try to upload the next one soon. Things are about to get heavy after this, and Stiles will finally have to choose. Tell me what you thought of this turn of events in the comments, and as always thanks for reading!


	8. The Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles make a choice, and it changes him forever.

Stiles is lying on the cold gray dirt of the eerie fog dimension, scared out of his mind, as The Primordials circle him like wild animals sizing up their prey. He tries to stand up but realizes that he can't even move. He'd heard their declaration; Power or Death, there would be no getting out of this. 

CHOOSE NOW MORTAL, POWER OR DEATH.

Hearing the chorus of voices inside his head never got any less creepy. Stiles, being an expert at avoiding his problems, decided to challenge their verdict, because why the fuck not? Death was already on the table, no need to take it easy on them. 

"Why death, why will you kill me if I don't choose?" He asked. The faceless being did not move an inch and he didn't know whether to find that comforting or terrifying. The beings spoke up within his mind once more.

WE ARE NOT YOUR DEATH, DEATH IS WRAPPED AROUND YOUR MORTAL SHELL. TAKE THE POWER OR CONTINUE TO DIE. THERE IS NO OTHER WAY.

Stiles finally understood what was happening. They weren't threatening him; he was too far gone from his own injuries to recover. Kate and her minions had messed him up past the point of no return and that's why he had been transported here so fast, there was no time left for him. He had to make a choice now or he would never be able to protect anyone ever again. This was what he signed up for the second he walked into Deaton's clinic looking for a way to "be more". It was time.

YOU UNDERSTAND NOW MORTAL, WHAT WILL COME TO PASS. CHOOSE.

"I understand. I will choose." He didn't know if he was making the right decision, but he thought of what he read and he didn't identify with any of the personalities in the books, they all felt to well defined and constrained to him, but for the sake of his life, if he had to imagine himself wielding any power, it would be Vis Naturae. There wasn't enough time to fully read up on every different power before he got summoned here, but he would just have to live with his choice, and hope it was the right one.

"I choose the force of nature." He said, body tensing and eyes shutting involuntarily, trying to brace himself against... nothing. He opened his eyes and saw that the primordials weren't moving in on him or doing anything other than standing in a circle around him. He stood still for a second and awaited any indication as to what to do next.

YOU STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND MORTAL. YOU WILL NOT YIELD ONE POWER; YOU WILL YIELD ALL POWER OR NO POWER AT ALL. FOR SO WE HAVE DECIDED, AND BRANDED YOUR SHELL. 4 ARE THE HANDS OF POWER THAT LAY UPON YOU, 4 ARE THE FORCES YOU WILL YIELD. 

Stiles couldn't even begin to understand what was happening. According to his research, the most powerful witch in history yielded three powers and now he was supposed to have them all? The only thought he could fathom was why. Why all 4? Why was he special enough? Why was he worthy? He didn't feel anything about him was special, in fact, he felt downright worthless. He couldn't protect his loved ones, he knew next to nothing about real magic and he let people down all the time. Could he even handle having all that power?

TAKE THE POWER MORTAL, OR LET DEATH CLAIM YOUR SOUL.

A thought he'd never let slip past his conscious mind manifested itself. He'd wanted strength ever since he stopped being possessed by the Nogitsune, if he was really honest with himself. That experience had been hell, but he'd never felt more capable than when he was inhabited by that spirit. He could destroy demons with his bare hands, he could command armies and wage wars. He'd never let himself miss that until now, he knew those thoughts were too dark to entertain. But right now, at the moment of truth, there they were, stealthily creeping to the surface ready to influence his decision.

 

He knew the moment his inner self decided to take on the power, and that was all it took for the primordials to advance on him like hawks swooping down on their meal. The forces grabbed him all at once, exactly where they had taken hold of him once before and left their mark. The second they made contact, Stiles felt his body contract as if trying to impede an invisible force from entering it, like a damn uselessly trying to hold in a tidal wave, and when his will was broken, he could sense the essence of the powers taking hold of him, like an explosion slowly happening inside him. Cell by cell, his self was inundated by the raw forces of primal power, not replacing his essence, but changing it, creating new life, new strengths, building bridges that connected him to wells of power so ancient he could even begin to comprehend them.

And the more he changed, the more the primordials changed. He could slowly see the faces of the creatures holding him begin to unveil themselves; he'd never considered that their faces would be shielded magically. But as more and more of their features came into focus, he was shocked to see that all of them looked the same. Each power had the same face, one that he world recognize anywhere, seeing as he saw it every morning in the mirror, or in every photograph he took. The whole ritual was starting to become too much to handle, ripples of energy and power coursing through all of him, the creatures doing this being suddenly transformed into exact replicas of him, but each with their own distinct aura. Maybe he had died after all and this was some twisted hell dream.

But then, as the ritual advanced, he started to realize what was actually happening. He knew this ritual was working to make him better, he could feel all his wounds healing. Not only that but his body was becoming stronger than it ever had been, almost like it was preparing itself to host these powers, because now he knew, he hadn't just been allowed access to practice the Primordials' magic, he'd been chosen to be their host body, become one with them, and he finally understood everything. Armed now with the knowledge of what was happening and the certainty that he would be okay, the ritual concluded in a burst of energy, a force field that pushed up dirt and debris all around him, which meant the final ties that he had with his humanity had left his body. He was no longer just Stiles Stilinski, he wasn't even human anymore.

"WE ARE POWER, WE ARE STRENGTH, WE ARE ONE" The forces in his mind declared. And after what felt like forever in an instant, Stiles was whole. 

He fell to the ground, no longer being held up by the primordials, which had disappeared, nowhere to be seen. Kneeling on the cold grey dirt he grabs fistfuls of it, because now it isn't just dirt, it's an element of power, something he can now control. The very air surrounding him is charged with magical energy and it's amazing. He feels like he's never seen the world with such clarity and for one second it fills him with more joy than he has ever felt. But then he remembers that he shouldn't feel joyful. Derek was ripped from his grasp and he has to get him back, whatever the cost. The positive emotions he had were suddenly incinerated by a fury the likes of which he hadn't imagined was possible to feel. He would get Derek, yes, and then he would get Kate. And make her pay.

 

With whispered words he cast himself out of the primordial dimension, fading back into the reality of his room. He would start by contacting the others to see if they knew where Derek was being kept. Nothing would stop him now, the hunt was on, and he was hungry. 

 

* * *

 

Stiles barely spared a glance at his room, he cleared out the second he was all the way here and went to look for Scott. One second he was in his house, the next he was at Scott's front door knocking with too much force, and it was night out so Melissa was probably asleep. She was walking down the stairs, on her way to answer, slower than he would've liked but still agitated, and apparently he could hear really well now, and teleport, let's not forget that. She opened the door and her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw him, she was in her pajamas, hair a mess and eyes puffed up, clearly she had been crying.

"STILES! Are you okay? Your clothes are a mess. Were have you been? Your dad's been worried sick about you!" She made a move to grab his arm, maybe to usher him inside, or to shake answers out of him, but she quickly withdrew it after receiving a slight electric shock. "Stiles you're scaring me, what's wrong with y-" 

"Where's Scott?" He interrupts. Melissa can tell he's not messing around and takes a few steps back when she answers. 

"He went with the others to find Derek, they thought maybe you'd been taken from your house too. Stiles you've been gone for days, all the blood in your room, they thought you'd been killed. They left yesterday and haven't been back since. Your dad has been combing the entire state with his police contacts trying to find you, hasn't left the station since you disappeared." So Kate had his friends _and_ Derek. She would pay dearly for this. At least his Dad was safe at the station. "Thank you Melissa." He said. She obviously had no idea where they were, so before she could rope him into answering any questions he faded back to his room.

 

What was he gonna do? He needed to find them, but he had no idea where to start. The voices in his head spoke up at this subconscious plea for help. "We can help, you know." They said. The primordials were now inside him and always present, only now their voices sounded like his, so when they spoke, it was an eerie echo of his own voice reverberating in his mind. "How?" Stiles said. "Use a locator spell." One of them suggested. Apparently locating people did not come as naturally as teleporting and super hearing, so Stiles was at a loss as to what to do. He asked the voice to teach him and suddenly he knew how and left towards Derek's loft.

When he got there, he tried to focus on finding some of Derek's blood. He needed it to find him with the spell; there were other ways to locate him, some of the voices said, but one of them kept insisting that this was the fastest. He was somewhat disgusted to realize that he could sense it, dried droplets of the substance scattered throughout the loft, some his, but some Derek's, and countless other creatures' as well. He summoned the dried droplets to him, like a vacuum drawing dust towards itself, and gave them new life, turning them a dark and liquid red. He had enough for a small bubble and proceeded with the spell. He ignited it in his bare hand and focused on Derek, saw him in his mind's eye. The fire burned a hole in his palm and the blood that didn't evaporate was absorbed through it, the hole sealed and he could feel Derek's blood in him. With Derek's life essence now coursing through his veins, he could feel how it pulled him towards the wolf, as if it was trying to get back to its owner. Stiles faded with the blood, feeling where it was leading him, getting closer and closer to the source of the pull with a supernatural speed. 

 

He traveled through a lot of streets, like a ghost haunting the town, and was not surprised when he was led towards the woods to an abandoned industrial area of Beacon Hills. There was a big factory warehouse in that area, and he felt the presence of several beings inside, and just knew that his friends were in there as well. Derek's blood was going crazy in his system and that just reinforced his conviction.  He also knew that they were in trouble, because he could sense their distress, some of their auras were weak. He got closer and started hearing the sounds of his friends being smacked around by berserkers, could smell Derek being burned by something Kate was holding in her hand, and he couldn't even wonder at how his other senses allowed him to form such a clear image of what he couldn't see, because he was filled with so much rage. And then his vision turned red.

Stiles' mind was overpowered by anger and he let that emotion fuel his next move. He gathered his strength and spoke to the primordials in an even voice. "I need to rescue my friends. I don't have time to come up with a plan so please, make my will yours and get them out of there." They understood what he was asking for, he needed firepower and they would give it to him, his Will would be his weapon and their magic the ammo. Confident that he could defend himself and ready to fight, he walked up to the warehouse's big main gate and blew it of its hinges with only a thought. He could feel every being in the building become aware of his presence, pulses increasing, auras burning brighter. He wrapped the big gate around two berserkers that were guarding the entrance and made it encase them in a constricting prison, the raw metal a strong natural element he could bend to his liking. He made the metal tighten until he could hear the crunch of their bones. Walking further inside he was greeted by 3 more berserkers and with a snap of his fingers, he incinerated them into piles of ash. He made his way down a corridor and took down 4 of them coming towards him by stealing their life force making them drop dead on the spot, all the while his mind only focusing on finding his friends. Using Derek's blood in him as a compass, he found his way to the room were he was being kept, the others chained up besides him. Kate was waiting for him, a dagger held at Derek's throat, as she grabbed his hair with her other hand to expose his neck. He could see that there was a small container on a chair next to her filled with burning coal, which she was using to heat up the blade and burn him. 5 berserkers were at her side. He could hear the dagger sizzling at the tip, were it was touching his throat and he stilled, not wanting to make her use the damn thing.

Kate spoke up, a steady grip on the dagger. "Silly little Stiles, I thought you'd bled out in a ditch somewhere. Where are the others you came with? You didn't get past my guards by yourself."

Stiles didn't know what to say, he knew he needed to end this but he was struck at the sight of Derek hanging limply from his chains, bleeding everywhere and smelling like charred meat. His friends were not 100% either, also hanging from chains but thankfully not as beat up as Derek had been. The psychopath in front of him kept on talking. 

"What's the matter Stiles? Cat got your tongue? Or did my berserker hit you too hard on the head last time we met, maybe knocked something loose?" She spat her hate with such glee, it was horrible to watch, she couldn't care less about hurting others. When he didn't respond she dug the blade into Derek's throat enough to draw more blood, enough that even the heat of the blade wasn't cauterizing the wound. She was visibly annoyed at his silence and let him know it. "Do you think I'm fucking around kid? I WILL SLASH HIS THROAT IF YOU DONT ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW!" She composed herself and continued her threat. "Or maybe one of your friends instead?" She removed the dagger from Derek's throat, turned to make her way to threaten someone else, and that was all he needed to make his move. He severed the chains that were holding everybody up and they crumpled to the floor, not expecting their support to fail. Kate saw what had happened and turned to face him. "What did you do? ATTACK!" she screamed, and the five berserkers lunged themselves at him, ready to rip him apart. He stomped his foot on the ground, and the earth cracked around him, creating deep gapping holes in the concrete floor, into which all five berserkers fell. He made the cracks close completely, the floor smoothing over like it had been seconds before, and it was like nothing had happened at all. He walked further into the room, looking a shocked Kate straight in the eye. She panicked and turned towards where Derek was lying on the floor, dagger in hand, and made a move to stab him. Stiles didn't let her get that far and stopped her from getting any closer to the wolf. On top of the already impossible things he'd done, now he was controlling Kate, as if she was a simple puppet and he could bend her to his will, like the metal door he had used earlier. He dragged her body magically towards him, her boots raking the ground as she got closer. She was frozen in her attack stance, only her eyes could move, and they showed the terror she felt, being at the mercy of someone other than herself. 

"I'm going to make sure you never hurt anyone EVER AGAIN." Stiles said. He wanted to make her suffer, a quick death wasn't something he wanted to grant her, and after a second of consideration he made the bones in her body break. He heard her muffled screams, her frozen face betraying the pain she felt as it turned pink and her eyes watered. It wasn't enough. He needed her to suffer more. He tried to think of what to do, something that would make her wish she hadn't messed with them, he wanted the worse thing a living creature could possibly experience to happen to Kate.

One of the powers spoke in his own voice, having heard his inner monologue, and suggested something dark. "Eat her soul." it said. "It's excruciating for the person experiencing it, and we'll be able to harness power from it forever. She will never know peace, not even after death." And that sounded perfect to Stiles right now. He let the power act through him and as it showed him what to do. He grabbed Kate by her neck and punched through her chest. As he grabbed her heart, he could see the tears streaming down her face and hear her horrid screams, and it felt right.  With her heart in his grasp, he used his power to syphon her soul form her body, and all Kate could do was scream over and over again. He could feel the dark power that came from the soul, and not only that, but he could see into Kate's mind, her memories and her life. The more he saw, the more he enjoyed what he was doing. This creature didn't deserve to live, and he could finally extinguish her life once and for all. After a minute Kate's bloodcurdling screams started to fade and he felt the last of her soul be consumed through his hand, and her heart stop beating. He let her unfreeze and she fell limply around the hold he had on her heart. He quickly discarded her body, throwing the empty carcass away from him and looked towards where his friends were. They were all huddled around Derek, watching Stiles with terrified expressions on their faces, Derek included.

Stiles could see their eyes were filled with horror, as they took him in and what he had done. He was so overwhelmed, so happy to have them all be alive that he ignored everything else and smiled his biggest smile. "You're all safe now." He said. And then he saw darkness creeping in around his field of vision, felt his body give beneath him as he passed out. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I took so long to update. Life got in the way, so I tried to make it longer for you as an apology, but please know that I do intend to finish it. So this was insane. Just so you all know, we're at the halfway point in the story, so things are only just getting good. If you thought Kate was Stiles' biggest problem, just imagine what comes next. Thank you for reading And I hope to update soon.


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